Death From Above
by N. Kage
Summary: Numerous factions are fighting over the Cyrus System, one with more at stake than mere planets.
1. A plot unearthed

I, sadly, claim no ownership to any 40k material used here.

"Have the shipments from Hydraphur yet?" Governor Heller asked with a sigh. He already knew the answer. The weapons and tanks he had spent precious amounts of his defense budget on hadn't come. He just needed to be sure.

"Yes and no, Governor.' His secretary, Lafayette said slowly, 'the armaments haven't come yet and probably will never come, but we have received three Avenger cruisers."

"Good. Tell Admiral Fulkerin he has gotten his reinforcements." Governor Heller returned. His defense cabinet, which included Admiral Fulkerin, who commanded the few ships that the Cyrus System could muster; Colonel Alghutz, the over-all commander of the systems numerous Imperial Guard regiments and various other men and women who did things Heller didn't quite understand. Heller was managing a growing crisis in his system. Raids by fast, swift ships were becoming a nuisance and Admiral Fulkerin kept yelling at him about getting more ships to defend Cyrus Vamosi, but Heller never really paid attention to Fulkerin. The Admiral was a veteran of some war or another and thought he could bully what he wanted from Heller with gory stories and scars. Besides, he had enough Imperial Guard regiments, made up of Cyrus Storm Troops, on the planet to defend it.

"What should I tell Colonel Alghutz?" Lafayette asked of the Governor. Lafayette didn't want the Colonel coming after him instead of the Governor. It wasn't his fault the shipments hadn't arrived!

"Tell him to make due with what he has! Heller stood and slammed his palms onto his desk with a bang. 'Do not concern me with such trivial matters! I have enough to worry about!" with that, Heller gestured to the stack of incident reports and such that lay scattered on his desk.

"Yes Governor. I'll be on my then." Lafayette grabbed his papers and hurried outside the Governors lavish office back to his own sparse quarters. Maybe if the Governor didn't spend so much money on his own luxury, he would have enough left to adequately supply his defense forces, Lafayette thought as he strode through the great double doors at the head of the room.

- - - - - - - - - - -

Admiral Fulkerin read with smile the news he received. The Avenger-class cruisers would be a welcome addition to his over-stretched fleet of three Dominator-class cruisers, and two squadrons of Sword-class frigates. He had almost nothing with which to defend the system with. It was terrible. Even though the Cyrus system was small, with only four planets, Cyrus Jundi, Cyrus Vamosi, Cyrus Goliath and Cyrus Merdi, it was still a vast track of space to defend with six cruisers and six frigates!

"Admiral, Lieutenant Carmina sent this." His adjutant, Yates, shoved another message-slate under his nose. The Lieutenant was in charge of the Crimson Squadron of frigates. He was just telling Fulkerin that he was encountering fewer raiders than usual and was worried something was about to happen out by Cyrus Jundi. In Fulkerin's opinion, the man was a coward. Jundi was an agri-world or something and was worth squat in strategic value. The food-shipments went out of system and the world was sparely garrisoned. The Admiral had other things to worry about than a weak-kneed Lieutenant! Fulkerin wrote a message telling the man to remain calm and hold his ground. He handed the slate back to Yates.

"Send this back to the Lieutenant." Yates saluted and marched out of the Admirals quarters. Fulkerin was currently aboard his flagship, the Storm, one of the Dominator-class cruisers. He had the bulk of his fleet in orbit around Cyrus Vamosi, the system capital and Cyrus Goliath, another heavily populated world closer to the system's sun. He wasn't concerned about Cyrus Jundi. A few Sword frigates would be able to stop some raiders.

- - - - - - - - - - -

"Is the fleet ready?" Farseer Uthuan El-Camine asked of his Captain, Elthan. He had spent the last fifty years of his life merely getting to this point; he didn't want things to be ruined because the Yme-loc craftworld was not prepared for war! Uthuan had spent long vigils in the Infinity Circuit, searching for several lost relics of Yme-loc. These were the seed of an Avatar of Kaela-Mensha-Khaine, the wrath-bone armor of an Exarch, and a Webway gate. After spending fifteen years questioning souls in the Infinity Circuit, he spoke with one of the first Farseers of Yme-loc, Durell. Durell told Uthuan of a group of worlds once seeded by the eldar, long before the fall. These worlds were perilously close to the Eye of Terror, in Imperial Space. How he had found this system, however, was of no importance. What did matter was that he had found it and would waste no time in finding the relics.

"Yes, Farseer. We have several groups of Aconites and Hellebores, two squadrons of Nightshades and two Shadow cruisers. We have also numerous Vampires ready to strike!"

"Ha. The mon-keigh will be powerless to stop us! What have the Aspect shrines brought us?" Uthuan turned to face his Warlocks.

Maruath, the most experienced, spoke up. "The call to war was not unheeded! We have units of all the major shrines, mostly from the Avenger shrines, but with elements of the Striking Scorpions, Howling Banshees, Fire Dragons, Dark Reapers and Shining Spears. We have much support from our numerous grav-tanks and we have awakened several Wrathlords and their guard. Many, many Guardian squads have also been formed. We are ready to strike!"

"Good! First, we will strike the mon-keigh ships around the first planet and land several Vampires on the world to secure the Avatar. With it awakened, our forces will be bolstered and fight with many times more strength and courage. Once there, we will gain a better measure of the mon-keigh's strength and adjust our attack to deal the most damage."

"Who will lead the attack on the first system?" Marauth asked, excitement gleaming in her eyes. She embodied the more war-like aspects of the Warlock and carried her wrath-bone spear with pride.

"You will. Strike hard and fast! Do not give the mon-keigh a chance to overwhelm you with their numbers!"


	2. Opening Gambit

"Bring us around to heading two-two-four." Lieutenant Carmina barked as she paced around the bridge of Crimson One, her jack-booted heels ringing on the riveted steel deck. Nothing had been on the sensors for hours and she was worried. There was always calm before the storm and this was it.

"New heading at bearing two-two-four confirmed." The metallic voice of one of the many bridge servitors droned. A fair number of the bridge crew were servitors, performing mindless tasks such as course correction, communication, and senor monitoring. The more important tasks were done by living crew, interrupting data, gunnery, what have you.

"Anything on the sensor sweeps?" Carmina barked again, this time she flopped down in her command chair and pulled a vintage bottle of amansec out of a refrigerator unit built into the chair. Carefully, she poured a glass of the potent liquor and slammed it back in one gulp, wincing as it burned down her throat.

"Nothing, Captain." Another servitor droned. The sensors were also carefully monitored by a crew member, Jenks or Henks or something like that. Carmina didn't remember, it didn't matter.

"Second-Lieutenant Helmsberg wishes to open communication." Another one of the damn servitors spoke out, this one's voice was metallic and raspy.

"Open the channel!" Carmina yelled as she opened a miniature pic-screen built into her command chair. The pock-marked face of Second-Lieutenant Helmsberg greeted her. Helmsberg was young, about thirty and usually deferred to Carmina's experience. She had fought a brief action during the last Black Crusade and won a few small honors.

"What is it, Helmsberg?" Carmina asked tersely as she drank another shot of amansec. This one still burned but it calmed her down.

"Are you picking up an anomaly in sector three-four-six, Ma'am?" Helmsberg asked, his eyes shifting from side to side as if looking at something on his ship, Crimson Three.

"Sensors! Are you picking something up in three-four-six!" Carmina shouted, shifting her gaze from the pic-screen to the rest of the bridge.

"One small reading, traveling rapidly towards our location. Suggest course correction to avoid collision." The servitor droned back in its metallic monotone.

"Battle stations! The raiders are back! Helmsberg, prepare your ship!' Carmina punched two runes on the pic-screen, which brought up the face of Second-Lieutenant Lestat. He had a square-cut face, obviously some Imperial noble stuck on a frigate until he proved himself. 'Prepare for action, Crimson Two!"

"What? For the one weird reading on sector three-four-six or something? Its probably an asteroid or debris. Get over it." With that, Lestat's face disappeared and the screen went black. He cut off communication. Most commanders would have ignored the reading, but not only did she intensely dislike Lestat, she just had a hunch it was something more.

"Charge prow laser batteries! Check the turret servitors and turn off that damn siren!" After Carmina called battle stations, a red warning light came on automatically. It made her head ache.

- - - - - - - - - - -

"What do you mean, the holofield on your Hellebore is malfunctioning!" Fleet Captain Elthan yelled into the wrathbone screen. On the other side, Captain Faeruithir gestured hopeless with his hands. Like all Eldar, his face was thin, long and pale and a shimmering soul-stone was set in his chest-armor.

"An unexpected malfunction in the holofield generator has occurred. The field is still up, Fleet Captain, but we may be visible to the mon-keigh." The entire fleet, some thirty ships, was powering towards the first planet, Cyrus Jundi under the cover of their holofields. Something like this might compromise the entire fleet.

"Can you fix it, Faeruithir or do I need to find someone who can?" Elthan said quietly. He wasn't serious, Faeruithir was a very good captain, he just needed to get things moving.

"Not now. Might I suggest my squadron disengages our holofields and attack the mon-keigh from a different direction from the rest of the fleet as a diversion?" Faeruithir suggested. It was things like this that made his a good captain.

"Good. Hit them from the galactic west and leave none alive!" Elthan pressed a rune on the screen and began to get his ship, the Shadow cruiser Dark Death.

"Shut off the holofields, arm the torpedoes, charge the lance battery and change heading to eight-two-five!" Faeruithir was standing tall on his small bridge, one hand on his shuriken pistol, one on the intricately detailed wrathbone railing that separated the upper command bridge from the lower bridge. The first thing he noticed was the bridge lights grew imperceptibly brighter. The holofields drew enormous power from the generators, which was now largely transferred to the shields.

Faeruithir pressed several more runes on the screen, bringing up a three dimensional view of the area. Towards the large green orb of the planet, three red triangles sat, numbers designating their position in the galactic plane. Behind and east of his ships, which were three green spikes, sat the mass of Eldar ships, which were steady moving towards the planet.

"Have the mon-keigh seen us?" Faeruithir asked of his sensor chief, Icarieane, who was hunched over a glowing sensor screen.

"Yes, Captain. We have been picked up on their sensor sweeps and it appears they are powering towards us."

- - - - - - - - - - -

"Three new contacts, bearing eight-two-three, heading toward bearing eight-two-five." Called out the sensor servitor from its permanent post.

"Change to intercept course!" barked Lieutenant Carmina again. She flicked on the pic-screen and open a channel with Second-Lieutenant Lestat.

"Get your bloody ship ready and stay in formation!" Carmina shouted into the link. Before he could response, she closed the channel and punched another rune, opening the channel to Crimson Three. Helmsberg looked nervous, sweat on his brow already.

"Helmsberg, stay in formation, okay? Keep your prow batteries charged and your shields up and you'll be fine." Carmina knew how to keep his spirits up.

"Alright, Lieutenant." Before he could say something else, Carmina cut the link.

"Make sure the shield generators are on and have fire crews ready!' Carmina called out to no one in particular. Her crew already knew what to do, but it made her feel better to yell. That and another drink. 'Sensors, can you tell what those readings are?"

"Energy discharge, shield type and sensor return indicates they are Eldar ships.' Jenks/Henks called out from his station on the massive bridge console. He turned and looked at Carmina. 'Damned xenos, ma'am."

"Distant to them?" she called out again.

"Ten-thousand kilometers, ma'am. We'll be in range in about twelve minutes."

"Have someone tell the Cyrus Jundi garrison to get ready in case we fail." Carmina said to no one in particular as she settled back into her chair to wait twelve nerve-wracking minutes.


	3. The invasion of Jundi begins

Finally some action in this one!

"New communication came in, Major while you were… out." Sergeant Binngs said to the hung over officer as he handed him a data-slate. Every Guardsman on Cyrus Jundi dealt with the crushing boredom in their own ways, like all Imperial Guardsmen do when stationed on a back water planet, but Horan drank. The agri-world didn't have much, but it had a lot of booze and Horan probably drank most of it. Binngs would usually find him passed out in his officer and wake him up around mid-day for administrative things.

"What's it say?" Horan held his head in his hands while Binngs slid a steaming cup of caffeine under his face. Binngs didn't care the Major was a drunk, neither did anyone else in the barracks. Horan was a poor officer at best and he did less harm drunk than when he was sober.

"Lieutenant Carmina of the Navy says the Eldar are raiding and that we should be prepared to fight them." Binngs said softly as he refilled the mug of caffeine from a thermos.

"Whatever you want to do, do it, I need to sleep." Horan mumbled into his cup. Binngs smiled to himself. This is what usually happened. Horan would wake up, eat something and then pass out again. The rest of the men understood Binngs was in charge and 'Major' Horan was merely a figurehead.

"Yes Sir.' Binngs had already alerted the rest of the 48th Cyrus Storm Troop regiment and had them gearing up right now. The 48th was the only regiment on the planet but Binngs wasn't worried. Three thousand Storm Troopers could stop anything thrown at them. Seven companies were garrisoned around the capital, Vamosi. Vamosi had the only space port planet side and thus was of strategic importance. The other three companies were broken up and stationed around the massive world, usually a platoon here or there around the massive silos that housed the crop or at the small townships that dotted the planet. 'Anything else Sir?" he asked. Horan was snoring, his head still in his hands. Binngs spun on his heel and strode out of the officer, pausing to close the door softly.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Target the leading mon-keigh ship with all weapons." Faeruithir hissed to his weapons officer. He and his squadron were closing fast with the enemy vessels, which were slow and lumbering compared to the graceful Hellebore class.

"Yes sir. All weapons are armed. The pitiful human-filth shields will not stand for long against our onslaught." The rest of the captains acknowledged readiness and now they merely had to wait till they closed to within range in approximately three minutes. The rest of the fleet was probably closing to within striking range of the planet by now. He almost felt pity for the humans on the planet, Marauth would leave none of them alive, but humans were in such numbers, their loss would go unnoticed.

Faeruithir leaned back in his simple chair and sipped on some rare wine he always within reach. He always had a few sips before battle. It was for luck. He had long forgotten why he did it for luck, but he always did.

"Are emergency crews ready in case they try to board?" The mon-keigh had never closed with his ships, but it never hurt to be prepared for such things.

"Yes sir. They will not find us unprepared. One minute to weapons range now!" Weapons officer Benieen called, his voice sounded excited.

"Thirty seconds!" Benieen called again.

"In range now! The mon-keigh are firing torpedoes!"

"Fire at will! Destroy the mon-keigh!" Faeruithir shouted, his eyes wild with excitement. The Hellebore shuddered as every weapon fired. Faeruithir slid a pic-screen from his chair and watched as the searing bright las-bolts and glowing torpedoes streaked towards the mon-keigh. Faeruithir pressed a rune on the screen, switching to the tactical view and saw a swathe of mon-keigh torpedoes heading towards his Hellebores. The center mon-keigh ship disappeared from the screen and was replaced with a debris field. Shortly after, the other ships disappeared from the screen.

"Torpedoes closing, sir!" shouted someone. Faeruithir couldn't identify who.

"Evasive maneuvers and make sure the close-defense turrets are activated!"

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Binngs sat down in front of the comms-officer, a twitchy man named Jones, who had a vox-receiver pressed against his ear. He was listening to a long-range communication from that damned Lieutenant Carmina. Suddenly, Jones dropped the receiver like it was burning and rubbed his ear.

"What?" Binngs asked angrily.

"She got cut off, saying the Eldar were attacking. It was all static and screams, sir. They're probably dead."

"Damn it! Any word from the outlying units?" The first line of the defense for Vamosi was the outlying garrisons and Binngs relied on them for early warning.

"Nothing yet, sir."

"Damn it again! I want every man watching the sky! The Eldar raiders won't find us unprepared!"

The door to the comms room burst open, exposing a panting, sweaty Corporal. "Sir, flyers have been spotted to the south! Lots of them!"

"Get back to your post! Expect an attack within minutes!" Binngs shouted as he grabbed his chainsword and holstered pistol from a rack by the door and ran after the Corporal towards the low wall that surrounded the town. Binngs was immediately followed by his command squad, Sergeant Jannis, Privates Jenna and Tomas, Corporal Jones who was struggling to pull his vox-caster onto his back, and Medicae Yates.

"Guess we finally get to see some action, eh, Sergeant?" called Tomas, who was carrying a reeking flamer. The man always stunk of promethium and rumor was that he was an arsonist. Binngs could believe it.

"Yeah, I guess so." Binngs jumped up the wooden steps to the ramparts three at a time and was greeted with a host of greetings and calls from the other men on the wall. Binngs nodded his greeting and looked for the look. The look that told if a man would turn and run or would freeze up under fire, or generally not do his duty. A lot of men had it written across their faces. The regiments only Commissar was out patrolling the outlying garrisons almost permanently. It was the only way Major Horan wouldn't get shot on the spot.

"Keep watching the perimeter! Don't let them sneak up on us!" Binngs shouted to his men as he unlimbered his chainsword and drew his pistol. He was nervous; this was going to be his first combat. It was going to be the first combat for a lot of the men. Binngs breathed deeply, he couldn't show weakness in front of his men.

"Shouldn't we wake the Major, sir?" Yates asked.

"Nah. He needs his rest." Binngs snorted.


	4. The Commissar falls

So, this one is slightly shorter than the last chapters. Sadly, this is another project I'm shelving for a while.

Marauth crouched down; laying her spear across her armored thighs and drew a map in the thick dirt in front of her. Around her stood her Exarchs, Warlocks and pilots, studying the map intently. She had seen pic-steals of the mon-keigh barracks and was carefully coordinating an attack from multiple points. Several Wave Serpents full of troops were already in position around the other outlying garrisons and several groups of Swooping Hawks were waiting aboard an orbiting Vampire. The mon-keigh would be exterminated. She would see to that every single one of the ignorant humans was dead so they would not mar the Avatar by gazing upon it with their unworthy eyes. She still could not sense the Avatar, but she was not surprised. The stink of the mon-keigh was clouding her senses. The fields that lay in every direction were saturated by their stink. She gritted her teeth. The mon-keigh were everywhere! They were in such numbers and had so many planets. The Eldar, who were the rightful owners of the universe, had many long years of fighting left before they could reclaim it from the filthy hands of the mon-keigh.

"I will lead the main attack from the north after the Nightwings have strafed the compound. Exarch Ka-has will lead the attack from the west, along with Exarch Hament and Karhaedron. Clear a path for Ararains' Fire Dragons. All you pilots,' Marauth gestured towards a small group of pilots, mainly of Falcons and Wave Serpents, 'I expect you to support the attacks. Do not stop until everyone in there either dead or dying. Is that clear?"

A chorus of acknowledgements erupted from those assembled. Marauth nodded to herself as she ran an armored finger over her spear blade. She had not long been on the path of the seer, but was already wishing she was walking the path of the warrior.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Hold the line! Let none of them pass!" Commissar Tokarev shouted as he snapped shots off with his bolt pistol at the onrushing Eldar warriors, graceful women who were all armed with pistols and swords. One fell, chest vaporized by the mass-reactive bolts. To his left, a trooper threw his lasgun over the crude wall they had built out of boards and logs and ran. He did not get more than a meter before Tokarev turned and fired a round into his head.

"Cowards will be shot for dereliction of duty!" he shouted out again, trying to bolster the wavering line. He cursed as some heavy support weapon glided into view through the thick golden fields. The Commissar cursed again as his magazine ran dry and he rushed to switch for another. He was running low on ammo. They all were. He had been on a routine moral check when the Eldar swooped out of the sky and struck. Now they were stuck. The farmers were hiding in their homes, unwilling to defend themselves. He should have shot them.

"Commissar, why don't we try to make it back to Vamosi? Surely we will do more good there than here!" A trooper down the line shouted over the din of battle. The trooper was hefting on of the few heavy weapons the platoon had, a grenade launcher.

"Because cowards run and we are not cowards! Now fight or die!" Tokarev shouted, emphasizing his words by drawing his powersword with a flourish. Something on the horizon, far behind from where the Eldar were emerging from the field. He had seen precious little of their armor and from holo-vids he had seen, the Eldar were infamous for grav-tanks. It looked like a flock of birds, but he got alarmed as they grew larger with each passing moment. They were Eldar flyers.

"Find cover! Incoming aircraft!" Tokarev shouted. The commissar decided his life was more important than dignity and he dived down and curled into a ball. With a terrible scream, dozens of heavy impacts disintegrated the wall and sent Tokarev flying several dozen meters to slam against a farmsteads wall. Tokarev blacked out for a moment, and when he came to, he saw a horrible scene.

The Eldar were all over his shattered men. The air strike had completely broken the wall and those of the platoons that were alive were milling around, disoriented and shell-shocked. He watched as a tall warrior took off a troopers' head with a sword and seemed to laugh at the spurt of blood. Tokarev realized he couldn't hear anything but a ringing in his ears.

The commissar clawed at the ground around him, trying to find a weapon, anything with which he could kill some of them. He didn't feel anything. Then he realized one of his arms was gone and he was lying in a pool of his blood. He looked over and saw his sword sticking out of the wall behind him. His own sword cut off his arm. It was a terrible thought.

Everything started to go gray. What still worried him was that he couldn't feel anything! Then, he realized all of his troopers were dead. He had failed as an Imperial Commissar. He hadn't even had the chance to warn Vamosi of the attack.

The last thing he saw was the tall warrior striding towards him, a sinister grin on his slim, pale features. Then, the comfort of death.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Oh Emperor! Here they come again!" someone shouted at the top his lungs whilst


End file.
